Survivors: Alpha's Tale

by Erin Hunter

  The longpaw fastened a rope to the new, softer collar; it was loose and it gave him more range than the one in the barn. The metal bowl beside him was full of the meat nuggets that seemed much more appealing than they had the first time he’d tried them.

  He gulped at them, not caring about the loose rope that tangled between his legs. Sundance growled and snapped, and he and Zorro shoved Dog’s head aside so that they could steal some of his food, but there was more than enough, and Dog ignored their sniping. It was more than he’d ever eaten with his traitorous Pack.

  “Wolf, you can sleep here,” whined Calamity softly, wriggling aside on a big patterned cushion.

  “He should sleep in a dirt heap,” growled Zorro.

  Sundance rumbled in agreement. “Like he did with those filthy wolves.”

  Dog decided he wouldn’t dignify their scorn with any retort, but Calamity snapped, “Shut your jaws, both of you. Wolf worked well today.”

  Gratefully, Dog settled himself on half of the bed beside her. It gave under his weight, fitting snugly around him and warming his hide. Even warmer, though, was Calamity’s flank, pressed against his. He could feel her muscles twitching as she began to drowse. With the other Fierce Dogs so close, Dog thought he might not be able to relax, but his tiredness and the comfort overwhelmed him. He fell asleep to the sound of Calamity’s steady breathing, the rise and fall of her sides, and the scent of her hide in his nostrils.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Against the low line of the mountains, a huge pale moon was rising. The grass and trees shimmered under a silver light that was strong enough to cast Wolf’s shadow. Another long shadow stretched beside his: Calamity’s. She padded close by his side as Wolf and his new Pack made their way back to the shed from a day’s herding work.

  “Did you see how Zorro let that ewe play him for a fool?” whispered Calamity.

  Wolf glanced over his shoulder. The other three Fierce Dogs walked together, a few paces behind. He knew he’d turned out to be very good at his job, and Sundance and his cronies had never quite forgiven him for it, or Calamity for liking him. Even now Belle was shooting him a filthy look.

  “The ewe wasn’t even that smart.” Wolf grinned. “All she had to do was pin herself in the corner. He didn’t have a clue what to do except bark like an idiot.”

  “He lost his head.” Calamity gave a snort of laughter. “And Zorro thinks he’s so smart.” She gave Wolf a sudden, affectionate lick on the jaw.

  Wolf felt a thrill run through his hide. He swept his tongue over her pointed ear in return. As they trotted into the shed, he followed her to the bed and sat, pricking his ears at the Rancher as he waited for him to clip his leash to the wall.

  But the Rancher didn’t. He settled Sundance and Zorro and Belle, then turned to Wolf and Calamity with a wave of his front paw.

  “Heel.”

  After these last few moons, Wolf didn’t even have to think about the response. He was on his paws as fast as Calamity, walking at the Rancher’s side as he led them back out of the shed.

  “What’s happening?” he whispered past the Rancher’s striding legs.

  Calamity looked happy, her eyes shining. “It’s our turn to stand guard tonight. That means our Alpha completely trusts you!”

  Wolf felt his heart swell, and not only with pleasure at his Alpha’s confidence in him. He remembered his nights of patrol duty with his old Pack, before he was promoted to be a hunter. Those nights had been long and usually boring, since his fellow Packmates would barely exchange a civil word with him. He’d never had such pleasant company as Calamity.

  The Rancher stopped, patting their heads and offering each of them a treat from the pouch before striding off toward his home. Wolf and Calamity were about to set off along the fence when a shadow moved behind them.

  “Calamity,” growled Sundance.

  She tilted her head. “Yes, Sundance?”

  “You’re in charge.” The Fierce Dog shot a glower at Wolf. “You’re to make sure the sheep are safe, but you’re also to make sure Wolf behaves himself. I don’t want any mistakes.”

  “Oh, don’t worry.” Calamity rolled her eyes and sighed. “I’ll keep a very close eye on him.” She grinned at Wolf, and let her tongue loll.

  Wolf felt a rumble of amusement in his throat, but he managed to repress it while Sundance fixed him with his hostile eyes. Then Calamity was trotting happily off along the fence, and with a last glare at Sundance, Wolf followed.

  Just as he’d expected, Calamity was a good patrol companion. Quietly, they paced between the sheep pens and the farmhouse, sniffing and pricking their ears for any sign of trouble. Wolf’s fur prickled with alertness, and as the moon rose higher he kept his paws quiet and his nose sensitive to every fleeting scent. But as the time passed, and he detected no threats, he began to relax. With the quiet, intent Calamity at his side, he felt as if they were a single entity, a perfect partnership. Each of them seemed to know without speaking when to pause and sniff, and when to move on. No enemy had a chance of getting past them.

  As they halted by the meadow fence, Calamity sat down and tilted her head. “It’s so calm. Nothing’s even moving. How about a race?”

  Wolf’s ears came forward. “A race?”

  “Yes. Not scared, are you?” She squirmed through the gap between the fence and the gate. “Oh, of course you are. I’m sorry! You know I’ll beat you!”

  “Ha!” Wolf wriggled through after her. “You’ll be sorry you said that!”

  “The far fence and back.” She sprang into a run, taking him by surprise, and her haunches were already several paces ahead of him when he started after her. Wolf sprinted, his paws pounding, his leg muscles extending his stride until he was abreast of her; then he drew ahead. Beneath his paws the grass was damp and moon-silvered, and he could hear her panting, laughing breaths close behind.

  I’ve never been this happy, he thought, with a sweet sense of shock.

  At the fence, Wolf skidded in the earth onto his haunches, twisted and leaped back the other way. Calamity had turned early, taking a sneaky advantage, but still he caught up, flying past her. When they reached the fence, she collided with his hindquarters and they tumbled to the ground in a tangle of legs. Wolf grabbed her neck in his jaws, but gently, play-shaking her until she twisted from his grip and grabbed his muzzle in hers.

  At last, exhausted, they flopped together onto their sides, tongues lolling. Above them the stars were brightening despite the hugeness of the moon. Scents of pine and aspen and sagebrush drifted to Wolf’s nostrils, but he felt no urge to run to the hills. He wanted to stay right here.

  “Calamity,” he said, and hesitated.

  “What?”

  He licked his chops, getting his breath back. And not just because of the race, he realized. “I just . . . I don’t really know how to say this, but . . . “

  “Give it a try.” She twisted her head to stare at him.

  It came out in a rush. “I’ve never liked any wolf or dog as much as I like you.”

  For a moment she was silent, and he thought his heart had stopped beating in his chest.

  “I feel that way too,” she murmured at last.

  A rush of relief and happiness swept through his hide. “Oh. Good.”

  “Wolf, do you still think about running away?” Her eyes were dark and steady on his.

  He cocked an ear toward the hills and sighed. “Yes,” he admitted. Then he met her eyes again. “But if you’ll be my mate, I’ll stay here forever.”

  Her jaws opened and her eyes widened, but before she could speak again, there was an eruption of panicked squawking across the yard.

  “The chicken cages!” Calamity bounded to her paws.

  Wolf sprang up and ran. Sure enough, the racket was coming from the wire cages where the fat chickens roosted, and there was a tang in his nostrils that he remembered from his wild days. Not wolf, not fox . . . His lips peeled back from his teeth.

  Coyote!

&n
bsp; “You take the yard side!” he growled, and Calamity peeled away, running round the wire fencing. Wolf slowed, his legs stiff as he stalked closer to the tall gate. He could see now where the wire hung agape, the catch left carelessly loose. My territory, he thought savagely. And these birds belong to my Alpha. No coyote takes prey from my protector. . . .

  Silently he crept closer, nudging the gate wider, easing his shoulder into the run. There!

  Wolf stopped, one paw lifted.

  Coyotes usually ran in gangs, he knew that, but this one was alone. Like me. Like I was. . . .

  In the hatched moonlight Wolf could make out the coyote’s jutting ribs, its disheveled coat. As it moved stealthily toward the frantically clucking chickens, it lurched oddly, and Wolf realized it was using only three of its skinny legs. He moved along the inside of the cage, watching it, stunned by pity.

  Wild thing. Exiled from its Pack. Alone and hungry . . .

  The coyote lunged, snatching a red hen. Its eyes widened as it caught sight of Wolf, and then it darted past him, a flash of pale scraggy fur, and shot through the open gate.

  No! Wolf twisted and raced after it, but he could already hear the pounding paws of the other Fierce Dogs. They were running across the yard, cutting off the coyote as it fled in panic, the chicken hampering it.

  Sundance reached it first, pouncing and slamming the smaller creature to the ground. The coyote rolled and tumbled, dropping the chicken, but by that time Zorro and Belle were on it as well. Teeth snapped and claws flashed, and when the panting Fierce Dogs at last drew back, the coyote was nothing but a bloody scrap, limp and tattered in the mud. The chicken was a lifeless heap of rumpled feathers beside it.

  Sundance tipped back his head and raised the alarm, sharp deep barks that Wolf knew would summon the Rancher. His hide and his spine chilled. What have I done?

  Or what have I failed to do?

  As the Rancher came hurrying from the house, a beam of light bouncing in his paw, Sundance spun on his haunches and loosed a ferocious snarling howl right in Wolf’s face. Wolf could do nothing but stand rigid, his fur prickling. Even Calamity, padding miserably to his side, couldn’t reassure him.

  This was my fault. I hesitated too long, showed too much pity. Now they’ll separate us. The Rancher will chain me up again.

  He backed closer to Calamity as Sundance, Zorro, and Belle surrounded them both. His hackles rose, but he knew there was no point attacking his Packmates. He couldn’t fight three.

  And Calamity. What about her?

  The two of them stood trembling together; Wolf could feel the quivering of her hide. Zorro and Belle lowered their forequarters and snarled as Sundance took another pace forward.

  “You’ve let the Pack down. You’ve let down our Alpha! You’ve failed, both of you!”

  “Sundance,” Wolf began. “It was my—”

  “Be silent! You can’t be trusted!” Sundance’s vicious head swiveled to Calamity. “Neither of you!”

  She crouched, trying to lower her pointed ears. “I’m sorry, Sundance.”

  “You will be. You failed in your most solemn duty. You’ll both be punished.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The barn door slammed behind the Rancher, and he was gone. The fact that he hadn’t said a single angry word did not reassure Wolf. He and Calamity pressed against the barn wall, eyeing the three Fierce Dogs who held them pinned there.

  Inside the vast barn it was shockingly dark, as if the great moon outside had been extinguished altogether. But Wolf could still make out the glint of hatred in Sundance’s eyes. He glanced at Calamity. She was watching her Alpha, and her limbs were shaking, but her eyes did not drop from Sundance’s.

  For the first time in weeks, Wolf felt the old wild wolf anger rising in his chest. What right did these Fangs of Longpaws have to threaten him? What right did they have to threaten his mate?

  He took an aggressive pace toward Sundance, turning his body slightly to shield Calamity. “What kind of punishment?” he growled.

  “Not as much as you deserve,” snarled Sundance. “You’ll be marked. Permanently. At least that will remind you to do your duty.”

  Wolf froze. Marked? How? But before he could respond, Zorro and Belle sprang for him, knocking him to the ground and pinning him down with their powerful forequarters. Wolf struggled, snapping and twisting, but there were two Fierce Dogs on him and they were strong.

  Sundance moved swiftly. One of Wolf’s forelegs sprawled on the floor, and the Fierce Dog lunged, raking his claws down Wolf’s paw. For a second Wolf didn’t feel it; then the pain hit. He howled. The slash in his flesh was deep and bloody.

  Zorro and Belle rolled off him and stood up as Wolf cringed back, licking frantically at his paw. As he rested it on the ground he felt pain shoot up his foreleg again, but he could tell it wasn’t so serious as to lame him. He’d still be able to walk and run. Sundance knew exactly what he was doing.

  Wolf would carry the shameful scar for life.

  They’ve done this to me for the sake of a chicken. And I let them do it! He raised his head to glare his hatred at Sundance. If I’d been a real wolf, I’d have taken the hens myself. And I would never have let him do this to me!

  “Calamity,” growled Sundance. “Show me your paw.”

  Wolf’s fury drained abruptly, replaced by horror. “No! It was my fault! Me. You can’t punish her, she didn’t—”

  “She was your fellow guard, and I warned her she was in charge. It’s as much her fault as it is yours. Your paw, Calamity.”

  With one glance at Wolf, Calamity stepped forward. Zorro and Belle didn’t even need to pin her down. She lay down on her belly, her head pressed low, and extended her foreleg toward Sundance.

  “No!” barked Wolf, and sprang forward.

  Teeth seized the soft skin of his neck, and another set of jaws grabbed his shoulder. Zorro and Belle wrestled him down, not breaking the skin this time, but gripping him hard enough to hurt and dragging him back from Calamity and Sundance. Wolf could do nothing but watch as Sundance raised his paw and slashed Calamity’s sleek forepaw.

  Wolf heard her give the faintest, choked whine.

  Zorro and Belle released him contemptuously, and Wolf staggered, but he couldn’t even snap at them. He could only stare at the shivering Calamity as the three other Fierce Dogs stalked disdainfully to the barn door. It opened to Sundance’s yelp, and he heard the Rancher’s low voice praising the brute before the door closed again.

  Calamity half rose and slunk to a pile of straw, turning and curling up. If she’d had a tail, it would have been tucked tightly beneath her legs. She didn’t look at Wolf as he padded hesitantly up to her, then gently licked the tip of her ear.

  She flinched from his touch. “Leave me alone.”

  “I’m sorry, Calamity, you didn’t deserve this—”

  “Yes. I did.” Her voice was muffled. “Sundance is right. I failed in my duty.”

  “You didn’t. I did.” Stepping close, Wolf tried to settle down beside her, but suddenly she raised her head and snapped.

  “I said, leave me alone!”

  Wolf backed off, shocked. He tightened his tail between his legs as he stared at the back of Calamity’s head. She blames me. And she’s right.

  His heart like a stone of misery in his rib cage, Wolf padded to the barn door and lay down. It wasn’t latched or locked; the Rancher knew his dogs would never run away. He was their Alpha, wasn’t he?

  Wolf nudged open a narrow gap so that he could gaze out at the speckled black sky over the far hills. He only knew where the hills were because that was where the stars stopped.

  I pitied that coyote, just for a moment. And look where it got me. Scarred for life, and Calamity too.

  Wolf wished that he could sleep, but his mind was in turmoil. What am I doing here? I’m as pitiable as that coyote, and it’s dead. Sundance, he knew, would have liked to give Wolf the punishment he’d given the coyote. But his scar of shame—was even that a
proper punishment for one mistake? What kind of a Pack was this?

  But how could I ever live without a Pack?

  Rising, he nudged the barn door wider and limped out to the yard. The moon was smaller now, and lower in the sky, but it was still there. Wolf sat back on his haunches and let out a howl of desperate misery.

  Great Wolf, help me. Who am I? Dog or Wolf?

  As his howl faded, something tingled in his hackles. He went still.

  No giant starlit wolf bounded down from the night sky, like she did in the old stories. But he’d felt something.

  It was like a tug, insistent and demanding, at the nape of his neck. Something was calling him—calling him away from here, away toward the hills. He smelled sagebrush and aspen on the breeze again, and this time he yearned toward it.

  The forest. I have to be there. Not here.

  And yet . . .

  Wolf padded on silent paws back into the barn. Calamity still lay in the straw, absolutely still, but he knew she wasn’t asleep. He nudged her muzzle, very gently, with his own.

  “Calamity,” he whispered. “I need to leave this place.”

  Slowly she raised her slender head and turned it toward him. Her eyes were dark and very clear, but unhappy. “What about your promise?”

  “I still want you to be my mate. But I can’t stay here. Come with me. Please, Calamity.”

  For long moments she gazed at him; then she shook her head.

  “This is my family,” she whispered. “The Rancher. Sundance and Zorro and Belle. Whatever else they are, they’re my Pack.”

  Wolf took a breath. “Even though they—”

  “Yes. Even though they did that. Wolf, I’m happy here. It’s the only world I’ve ever known. I don’t belong in yours.”

  “I think you do.” Closing his eyes, he nuzzled her jaw.

  “I can’t, Wolf. Don’t ask me. I can’t.”

  If I leave, then, I leave without Calamity.

  “In that case,” he murmured, “I’ll stay.” His heart was heavy inside him, but he knew he couldn’t leave her. “I’ll stay with you.”